


kimi wa hitori janai

by untilitbreaks



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Happy Birthday Haru!!, Implied Rarepairs, M/M, Ran and Ren make a brief appearance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, artistic use of Haru's full given name, whoever guesses Nagisa and Rei's soulmates gets bragging rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbreaks/pseuds/untilitbreaks
Summary: Haruka had never been drawn to conversations about soulmates. He found the excitement surrounding the enigma of soulmates to be overbearing, and the portrayal of soulmates in the media to be a disservice. Some claimed that his skepticism would hurt him one day.But Haruka had never claimed not to believe in soulmates.





	kimi wa hitori janai

Haruka thought that the most annoying thing in the world was the heat.

He melted into his chair with a sigh. School was enough of a waste of time when it was summer, when he could be in the water. It was even more of a waste of time when the classrooms began stiflingly hot.

Haruka tilted his head to look out the window. He was lucky enough to sit near the back of the room, so he could get away with not paying attention—and he was in his third year, so his teachers cared less about forcing him to pay attention. There were several things Haruka was looking forward to once school ended, things he would rather dedicate his thoughts to.

He glanced at the clock. There were thirty minutes left until lunch.

At least one of those things would come to him then.

He absentmindedly ran his thumb over the soul mark on his left ring finger. Despite his claims about the concept of soulmates not particularly mattering to him, it had become a habit of his recently and he hadn’t bothered to break it.

He wasn’t quite as enamored by his soul mark as some of his classmates were with their own. The mark was plain, a simple ring of light brown low on his finger. It was said that this stripe of color matched the color of your soulmate’s hair—even when it was dyed. Haruka didn’t find it very interesting. It was the same sandy color it had always been, and Haruka didn’t spend his time expecting it to change.

And worrying over who one’s soulmate would be was a waste of time. Haruka had never understood the appeal of comparing marks and trying to see if it matched the color of the hair of someone they knew, and often came up for convenient excuses for why he couldn’t participate in such conversations.

But he supposed that he was just lucky.

He was lucky that his soul mark didn’t stick out terribly, like Makoto’s did, although it still wasn’t a very natural color. It was easier to avoid conversations about soulmates when his mark wasn’t especially interesting. To Haruka’s displease, talk of soulmates usually tended to become very sappy and romantic very quickly, considering that soul marks were generally situated on the ring finger of one’s left hand. (How this corresponded to one’s geographical location, Haruka didn’t know. He also didn’t care.) The whole tradition of wedding rings was to practice chastity in relation to the marks, and later to serve as a statement that one’s soulmate had been found and that the bond had been fulfilled.

Recently, these values were often rejected, but Haruka couldn’t be sure. It was Makoto who kept up with such trends, not him.

Time passed slowly, but once it did, Haruka didn’t have to wait long. Makoto appeared in the doorway of his classroom almost as soon as the lunch bell rang, He was wearing his usual smile, and it grew wider when Haruka stood up to drag over a desk next to his own so that Makoto could sit with him.

“You didn’t bring lunch again?” Makoto said, when Haruka turned to him expectantly as he began to unwrap his bento. He didn’t sound irritated or even the least bit surprised. “Share with me.”

Haruka didn’t comment on the suspiciously large amount of food Makoto had packed, or the fact that he’d brought two pairs of chopsticks with him. It was normal and that meant that it was comfortable not to question things, even if such a thing _wasn’t_ usually normal. It was fine because Makoto always cared for him even when Haruka took care of himself.

“Let’s stay here for all of lunch,” Makoto said. “I know we told Nagisa and Rei that we’d visit them, but it’s _so hot,_ Haru. I don’t know what they’re doing on the roof in this weather. I told them not to do it.”

Haruka nodded. He pushed aside a clump of rice and pointedly looked at Makoto when he unearthed a portion of mackerel.

“Oh, that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He laughed. “I was bored last night, and decided to experiment…”

“Should’ve invited me,” Haruka said. He imagined the disaster that must have been Makoto’s kitchen the previous night and lifted the mackerel to his mouth. “It’s probably terrible.”

Makoto watched his expression anxiously as he chewed. “It’s not, is it? I used the recipe you taught me last time and I think it went okay… At least, better than the first time…”

Haruka swallowed, pleasantly surprised by the quality of Makoto’s cooking. It was typically a considerably worse. “It’s not bad,” he said, and Makoto grinned in relief. Haruka wondered if it was because of what he’d said, or if Makoto had seen it in his expression.

It was probably the latter, because, knowing that Makoto had worked hard on preparing it, he would have told Makoto that it was good no matter what it actually tasted like. And Makoto knew that. Usually, Haruka has no qualms about being blunt to the point of rudeness if it got his point across, but he’d started to become a bit soft around Makoto recently.

“Do you think you’ll come over for dinner tonight?” Makoto asked. He picked out one of the few vegetables in the bento. “My mother’s trying out a new recipe. I think she’d be grateful for another opinion.”

Haruka nodded and hoped to himself that Makoto’s mother had better beginner’s luck than Makoto. That was enough of an answer for Makoto, who always carried their lunch conversations. Haruka continued to nod along, and Makoto could interpret the rest. 

Makoto began talking about Ran and Ren, and something they’d done the night before that he thought Haruka would find funny. He rambled on about his experience attempting to make Haruka mackerel, about the upcoming heat wave, and about how Rei had been texting him early this morning to ask for advice on throwing Nagisa a surprise birthday party.

Haruka stole his rice and nodded, and thought about how lucky he was to feel so comfortable in relative silence. 

He was so lucky.

He inched his hand over to Makoto’s until his last two fingers on his left hand covered Makoto’s. Makoto froze, looking around the room and then to Haruka—but the noise around them didn’t stop, and Makoto curled his fingers around Haruka’s.

His ears had gone red. Haruka took a bite of rice and pretended not to notice.

Haruka and Makoto walked home together, after practice. Makoto briefly debated on whether or not to invite Nagisa and Rei to dinner as well, but Haruka gave him a look that eventually shut him up. Makoto looked sheepish, even though Haruka hadn’t said anything. Haruka felt mildly guilty.

Ran and Ren were overexcited to see Haruka, clearly not having been expecting him. They roped him into playing a game with them before Makoto could protest, and while Makoto apologized profusely for the inconvenience, Haruka told him that it was fine. He genuinely didn’t mind entertaining them—not when it made Makoto so happy when he did so. 

Whatever Makoto’s mother cooked wasn’t terrible, but it was out of Haruka’s normal range of approximately six (seven on a good day) different foods that he enjoyed, so it was a stretch. Makoto seemed to recognize this immediately. After dinner, when the twins had been put to bed, Makoto offered him something else, looking remorseful. Haruka turned him down and told him that it would make him happier if Makoto picked out a movie for them to watch instead of fussing over him, and Makoto quickly complied, looking flustered.

The movie Makoto picked was better than the food his mother had cooked for them, and which made for a good night. They started out on opposite ends of the couch, although Makoto ended up with his head on Haruka’s shoulder halfway through the movie, and Haruka didn’t question why.

It was only natural, after all.

Haruka woke up with a stiff neck and shoulder, which was minor compared to how Makoto must have felt, after spending the night with Haruka’s head crammed under his chin and his legs hanging off the couch to make room for Haruka.

They walked the familiar route to school, as they always did, after a quick breakfast considerably longer than one Haruka would have had if he’d spent the morning alone. The school day was, as always, tedious. 

Haruka spent the majority of the day looking out the window, thinking about trivial things like soulmates and what Makoto had brought them for lunch and how badly he wanted to get in the water. 

Thinking, when he was in the water, was much more peaceful than in a classroom. When he was in the water, he didn’t feel so alone, even though, when he was swimming, he was more secluded than he was at any other point throughout the day. He supposed that it could be because of what he swam for—himself, but also his closest friends, the ones who accompanied him in the water. 

But it wasn’t just because of that. The water had always treated Haruka like he was special. Like it was his home.

The only person who made him feel at all like the water did was Makoto, and Haruka couldn’t imagine that kind of feeling ever coming from anybody else. Nobody felt like home like Makoto did.

Despite doing very little—if pretending to pay attention could be called anything at all—during the day, Haruka was exhausted by the time Makoto met him outside of his classroom at the end of the day. Haruka trudged alongside him down the hall and outside, to the club room.

“Long day?” Makoto asked, with a smile on his face despite Haruka’s trademark less-than-impressed expression. “Did you spend it thinking of the pool?”

Haruka grunted, because saying anything, or even looking at Makoto, would be as good as telling him that he was correct. 

It didn’t really matter, though, because Makoto knew that he was right either way.

Makoto was about to reach for the door to the club room when he gasped. He twisted around to shuffle through his bag—found nothing—and sighed. “I’m sorry, Haru, I’ll be right back. I forget something in class—don’t wait up for me!”

Haruka almost frowned at him. He couldn’t exactly “wait up” for Makoto when they’d already arrived at the club room. But he would have tried, and Makoto knew that. 

He also probably wouldn’t blame him, considering what was waiting on the other side of the club room door.

“Hold _still,_ Rei-chan!” Nagisa cried as he attempted to chase Rei around the room. He tripped over Rei’s bag and went stumbling, almost crashing into the wall.

“Never!” Rei snarled, narrowly leaping away from Nagisa’s grasping hands.

Haruka walked by them and began unbuttoning his blazer. The second years generally quieted down after a while if they were ignored, and Haruka already ignored most people as a defense mechanism. His perfected strategy of ignoring people was often a useful talent.

“Ah! Haru-chan!”

_Not this time._

Haruka looked up just in time to see Nagisa barreling towards him. He stepped out of the way at the last second, but Nagisa stopped in front of him with purpose. He held out a hand and narrowed his eyes. “Show it to us, Haru-chan!” 

“What?” Haru asked, although he had a feeling he knew what Nagisa was going to ask him for. 

_It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before. I don’t get what’s so entertaining about bothering one’s senpais._

“Your soul mark! Obviously!” Nagisa said, his voice so loud it was nearly a shout. “Come on, please, mine and Rei’s are both red so it’s _boring._ ”

“No soul mark is boring,” Rei said intelligently, fixing his glasses. “And it’s rude to ask about them.”

“Oh, yeah? You say that like you don’t want to see Haru-chan’s too!”

“Your marks are probably more interesting,” Haruka said, hoping that Nagisa would take the bait.

“Not when Rei won’t let me see his!” Nagisa said, exasperated. “I was just trying to see if they were, like, different shades or something like that! And they are! I think! I think mine is darker!”

 _Ah,_ Haruka thought, glancing over at Rei. _It’s about the color of his face, if I remember correctly._

“It doesn’t matter!” Rei protested, clutching his left hand in his right. “We don’t know many redheads. It’s not like I’ve met my soulmate—“

“We know plenty of redheads!” Nagisa said. “Like—like Rin-chan! Maybe he’s your soulmate!”

Rei tilted his head up and looked down at him. “ _Rin-chan!_ Maybe… maybe he’s your soulmate.”

“Me?!” Nagisa’s expression was one of mock outrage. Haruka has to assume that he was at least a little hurt. “My soulmate would never be an—an _enemy!_ "

Rei snickered and Nagisa swatted at him, which prompted another round of Nagisa chasing Rei around the club room while dodging various obstacles. Haruka ignored them and grabbed his pair of goggles, hoping to slip out of the room unnoticed.

His hopes were dashed when Nagisa stopped in his tracks and said, “Hey! Maybe Haru-chan won’t show us his soul mark because his soulmate is an enemy!”

Rei frowned at Nagisa, but also seemed to consider his suggestion as a legitimate proposal. He looked over at Haruka as if searching for confirmation, and Haruka glared at him.

The door opened and Haruka nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Makoto’s expression was stern. “Back off,” he said. He was standing casually, his bag hanging off one arm and his left hand in his pocket, but he was clearly upset—maybe more upset than what the situation called for. His jaw was clenched tightly. “You’ve seen his mark before.”

Nagisa looked torn—likely between following Makoto’s order or demanding that Makoto also show him his soul mark—but, after a long second, nodded, without asking any questions. “Come on, Rei-chan,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the door. “We’ve been ready forever.”

Haruka didn’t look up at Makoto until they were completely alone. When their eyes met, Makoto’s expression softened almost into his usual one.

He didn’t need to talk. He held Haruka’s gaze for a long moment, and then began to undress. Haruka waited for him amid comfortable silence, looking away from Makoto to consider the length of the straps on his goggles. 

Makoto ran a hand through his already messy hair and picked up a pair of water bottles. He held one out for Haruka, who took it and nodded at him gratefully. Makoto reached for Haruka’s left hand and briefly pressed his lips to his ring finger, making steady eye contact with him.

With Makoto in charge, practice ran relatively smoothly, the only incident being a playful argument between Nagisa and Gou over whether Rei should work more on his stroke or kick, which ended in them deciding that Rei was simply weak in both and should practice as much as possible before the next tournament. Makoto and Haruka are left to pick up the pieces of Rei’s crumbling self esteem as Gou attempted to devise a new training regimen.

Every day with their small swim club was a whirlwind. Usually, Haruka would try to avoid such an environment. It was noisy and made him uncomfortable. But the people were different. They were his relay team. And it was a fair enough sacrifice—if it could ever even be called that—to spend hours in the water every day.

At one point Rei asked Haruka for advice, and he spent most of their remaining time with him. Haruka wasn’t sure why—he could only give Rei very general, very vague tips. Makoto would have been much better, had Rei asked him instead.

Nagisa and Rei left practice on time with plans to go out for pizza (and, knowing the two of them, ice cream after). They invited Haruka and Makoto, who both declined, although Gou eventually agreed to go along with them.

“Someone needs to look after your health,” Gou whined, “because both of you have terrible dieting habits. Absolutely _terrible._ ”

“You think she’s the soulmate of one of them?” Makoto asked as he toweled off his hair. 

Haruka shrugged. “Her hair color doesn’t match either of their marks. It’s close, though.”

“Hmm… You have to wonder about that…”

Haruka glanced at him, and then positioned himself on the starting block. He dove in and revelled in the sensation of the water surrounding him.

Makoto lingered behind with Haruka as he swam lazy laps of free, finally alone. Haruka didn’t have to think. He simply allowed himself to feel the water. Pool water, while still contained, was much better than bath water. There was nothing like the feeling of waves carrying one along, but the quiet stillness of pools was something Haruka could also appreciate.

_Makoto…_

Haruka emerged and shook water out of his hair. Makoto was crouched by the edge of the pool, and he smiled when Haruka swam over to him. “Done?” he asked.

Haruka shook his head. He held out his hand, and little droplets of water rolled off the tips of his fingers. “Join me, Makoto.”

“I can’t,” Makoto said. “I—I’m already dressed.”

Haruka stared at him. Makoto’s smile was sheepish. He knew that that wasn’t a strong enough excuse for Haru, who had no qualms about getting in the pool with his clothes on, or about stripping at a moment’s notice. 

“Tomorrow I will,” Makoto said, in an effort to compromise with him. “Tomorrow we can stay late again.”

Haruka nodded, and pushed away from the side of the pool to swim another few laps, without thought for form and breathing freely. Makoto watched him, and pulled Haruka out of the pool when he was done.

“Good work today,” he said. He leaned in and kissed him. “This team has really come together.”

“It has,” Haruka agreed. 

Makoto draped a towel over Haruka’s shoulders, and then began to dry his hair with another. Haruka leaned back into his touch and closed his eyes, content. He wasn’t obsessive over the state of his hair like Rin was, but he didn’t like it when anyone but Makoto touched his hair.

After a while—Haruka never bothered to keep track of time—Makoto’s hands stilled. “Thank you,” Haruka said softly, opening his eyes. He turned around to face Makoto, who grinned at him.

“Anything for you, Haru-chan,” he said fondly, ruffling Haruka’s hair. He offered his hand to Haruka, who took it, and allowed him to lead him to the club room so that they could pick up their bags.

 _Just this once, I think I’ll allow my soulmate to call me “Haru-chan”,_ Haruka thought drowsily. 

He leaned against Makoto as they began their walk home together, just as they always had. Even if some things changed in the future, as Haruka knew they would, some things would always stay the same. 

Makoto’s presence by his side would always be there, even if the band of brown around his ring finger didn’t exist, even if this mark wasn’t matched by a ring of black around Makoto’s finger. That was something that Haruka would always be able to count on.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for the soulmate-identifying marks used in this one shot were partially inspired by a tumblr post by groanlester. ^.^


End file.
